


A Dutiful Daughter

by Fluffyllama (Llama)



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-24
Updated: 2011-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-23 00:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama/pseuds/Fluffyllama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last time all three Black sisters are together in their family home. Narcissa is about to leave for her final year at Hogwarts, Bellatrix is plotting, and Andromeda has a secret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dutiful Daughter

As summer wound down towards the start of a new school year, regular visitors to the Black household - whether friend or family - knew what to expect should they call in on business, or in the name of family duty. It was no surprise that a number of them found that even the most urgent matters could be postponed for a few weeks when the alternative was listening to the annual lecture on That Damned School and Why It Would Be The Ruin Of The Family.

Not that it ever made any difference. Lavinia Black would simply say “Yes, dear, I’m sure you’re right,” in her soothing voice and continue packing the girls’ trunks.

All the same, after a decade of annual spleen venting, an audience was not easy to come by for Syrus Orion Black. By the time the youngest of his daughters, Narcissa, was preparing to leave for the start of her seventh and final year, even semi-regular delivery men and the little deaf man who came to test the floo were wary of calling in, having been caught once too often in a one-way conversation that even liberally applied brandy didn’t make much more entertaining.  
  
Fortunately his daughters had not been placed in the Ravenclaw and Slytherin houses at Hogwarts for nothing. Trips to Diagon Alley for school supplies had for several years failed to acquire certain essential items - mainly the large and bulky objects for some reason - and this year was no exception. In fact, to make up for there now being only one set of supplies to buy, Flourish and Blotts had been strangely remiss in ordering enough copies of even the basic schoolbooks in recent times, which necessitated the sending of many owls and a stream of nervous young assistants hastily dispatched by their cannier employers to the Black household.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Father so happy,” Narcissa said, sitting on her sister’s bed. “That’s the fourth one today, and he’s still going strong, I could hear him even through my strongest silencing charm. And even better, I was able to find time to shop properly instead of carrying heavy books around all afternoon.” She tilted her wrist this way and that, admiring the glint of her new bracelet in the light.

“Ten quid says he has something new to shout about before the day’s out.” Andromeda squinted at her face in the mirror and rubbed at a mysterious smudge in the corner of her eye.

Narcissa considered this carefully. The girls had all wondered among themselves if he would keep up the same favourite rant once they had all left Hogwarts. It seemed likely. After all, it was nigh on forty years since France had beaten England in the Quidditch World Cup, and he still wouldn’t speak to cousin Einwald who’d once been there on holiday.

No, this sounded like inside information.

“What have you done now?”

Narcissa saw her sister just smile into the mirror as she brushed her hair. Such _ordinary_ hair, she had, poor thing – Narcissa touched her own silky blonde strands and couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips. Andromeda really had drawn the short straw when it came to looks. Not that she wasn’t pretty enough, in her own way, but not only could she certainly not compete with Narcissa herself, but she didn’t even have Bellatrix’s unusual appeal.

Bella was the only one with a true touch of Black eccentricity; her dark intensity, the fanatical zeal for one odd cause after another that was a constant source of amusement to her youngest sister. Narcissa neither knew nor cared what lunatic obsession Bella was currently occupied with, as long as she kept that creepy husband of hers far away from the house. He had no right being such a scruffy degenerate with a family like his. And that beard… ugh.

She sniffed. Andromeda was still smiling in a way she probably thought was mysterious. Infuriating cow.

“I know you were out all night - _again_. Mother noticed, I think. You’re probably in trouble.”

“Mmm. Definitely, I’d say.”

The mirror giggled, and Andromeda winked – whether at her or the mirror, Narcissa couldn’t tell.

“Aw, baby sister’s all grown up.”

Narcissa jumped as a hand caught her wrist and examined the silvery chain coiled around it. Long black hair tickled her arm as her sister shook her head.

“Wasting your time and pocket money on trinkets and baubles, how ladylike.” Bellatrix Black released her sister’s wrist and strolled to the window seat.

“At least I make an effort,” Narcissa rubbed her wrist where Bellatrix’s strong grip had held it. “Or don’t you have to bother tidying yourself up now you have a husband?”

“Now, now, little baby, play nicely, or _someone_ won’t be coming to a par-ty,” Bellatrix tilted her head as she sang in her most irritating baby voice.

“A party?” Narcissa straightened up, immediately cataloguing her dress robes, and wondering if she had time to order up the dark green from Madam Malkin’s. “When? Is it at Malfoy Manor again?”

“Yes, tonight, and yes again – if you’re a good girl.”

“Anything. Anything at all.” Narcissa didn’t care – an evening at the Malfoys’? Sheer heaven. She could wear the dark rose pink; that wasn’t packed yet. Madam Malkin had assured her she would be the centre of attention, and among all the ever-present black, green and silver she certainly would be.

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow, and passed across a parcel. “Leave that in the Common Room on the first night back. Someone will collect it.”

Narcissa moved to speak, but Bellatrix held up her hand. “No questions. Promise, and baby can come to the party.”

“I’ll do it.” She didn’t care what it was; it was none of her business if Bellatrix wanted to play silly games.

“Good girl.” Bellatrix’s gaze shifted across to Andromeda. “What, not going to tell me I’m leading little girls astray as usual?”

Andromeda just smiled again. “None of my business. Narcissa is old enough to know what she’s doing, and so are you. I’ve got better things to think about.” She dropped the hairbrush into a small case along with a selection of bottles and jars from her dressing table, and moved to the wardrobe.

Bellatrix and Narcissa exchanged a glance as Andromeda lifted down item after item of clothing and shoved it roughly into a rucksack.

“Don’t ask me, she’s been in a funny mood all morning.” Narcissa shrugged. “I’m going to sort out my robes for tonight.

“Anyone would think you were moving out, with all that packing.” Bella watched from her window seat perch as Andromeda methodically cleared out her room.

“Anyone would be right then, wouldn’t they?”

“What?” Narcissa stopped, her hand on the door handle. “You’re leaving home? Just like that?”

“Just like that. Leaving home, and, if necessary,” Andromeda pulled the cords viciously tight around the top of the rucksack, “the family too.” She sighed. “I have a feeling that won’t be a problem – I’ll be disowned before I finish getting the story out.”

“You’re pregnant,” Bellatrix said suddenly, and Narcissa gasped.

“Yup!” Andromeda grinned, a mischievous look in her eye. “And what’s more, I’m going to marry him – and he’s Muggle-born.”

Bellatrix’s laugh took Narcissa by surprise. She was doubled over, hair wild over her knees where they were drawn up to her chest, laughter bubbling from underneath in a raucous peal.

“It’s not funny, Bella!” Narcissa sat back down, nausea rising in her chest. “It’s… it’s _disgusting_. How _could_ you, Andromeda?”

“Well… loudly and enthusiastically, mostly.” She leaned down to where Narcissa sat, and patted her shoulder. “I’m sure Father will shut up about it eventually. At least you’ll be away at school for a few months now – give him chance to calm down a bit.”

Andromeda picked up the rucksack and case. “You’ll see, it’ll blow over in no time.”

* * *

Of course, it hadn’t.

In no time at all it was ‘Anyone who sees that abomination of a child will not be welcome in this house again’, and even though Narcissa exceeded all her father’s expectations in marrying into the only family older and more prestigious than the Blacks, his pleasure in the new connection was overshadowed still by his ire at his ungrateful offspring and the perceived origin of her ridiculous notions.

Narcissa was proud to have remained a dutiful daughter, even if praise was rarely forthcoming despite her success in not ending up either impoverished or locked up in Azkaban. She suffered bravely through every family occasion that was subjected to more outpourings of resentful bile to anyone who would listen, and wouldn’t hear of leaving him off the guest list. Wedding guests, christening guests and dinner party guests alike were subjected to endless vitriolic outbursts about Muggles Who Deliberately Set Out to Entrap Innocent Witches, and How Hogwarts Encourages That Sort of Disgusting Idea, until even at his funeral Narcissa had wandered among the surprisingly cheerful mourners imagining she could hear his voice informing all and sundry that indeed, at last, That School and its influence had been the death of him.

She looked down with pride at the small blond figure in new school robes and patted his hair smooth.

“Now, before we leave, make sure you go up and say goodbye to your Grandfather.”

“Grandfather?” Draco looked up, clearly surprised. “You mean… you _do_ mean the portrait, don’t you?”

“Yes, dearest. Now be a good boy, run along and tell him you’re off to school today.”

She listened to the light footsteps running up the stairs to the little-used drawing room where the majority of the family portraits slumbered their deaths away, and smiled fondly as the first angry roar reached her ears.

After all, even if the old man was dead, there was no reason why he couldn’t have his little pleasures.


End file.
